


idiopathic

by spookykingdomstarlight



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Awkwardness, Denial of Feelings, F/F, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Love Confessions, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-02-29 20:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18785596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/pseuds/spookykingdomstarlight
Summary: “I’m not ignorant of our—your—of the complexity of the relationship between us. It’s not as easy as…” Her voice sounded lost, caught in the haze of her discomfort and unease. “I can’t have feelings for you, Sara. It’s not appropriate. As your physician…”It was true. Sara couldn’t deny that and she couldn’t argue except… she’d said our relationship. And had tried to correct herself and put it all back on Sara. It was so much more defensive than Sara had ever seen her. It gave Sara more courage than anything else Lexi had said to her before. “Do you though?” She wasn’t sure what she’d do with the answer even once she got it, but she needed to know. Desperately. One way or the other. Right now. This had finally gone on too long. “Have feelings for me?”





	idiopathic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hibernate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hibernate/gifts).



Dried blood rusted and flaked on Sara’s useless palms, her hands still unwilling to move for her. It was like her brain and body were disconnected from one another, acting on a delay and awkward in the extreme. First one finger would twitch and then another when she was sure she’d intended to wiggle them in quick succession. _You’ll be on the mend shortly,_ Doctor T’Perro had said as soon as she was brought into the medbay. Her voice had been as confident as it always was. Low, soothing. Perfect as far as Sara was concerned, though Sara should’ve stopped thinking of her that way a long time ago. _You just need to let SAM do the work. SAM and a bit of rest, you’ll see._

She’d had the good grace to not even sound dubious about it, though Sara had her doubts. Still did. A stun to the base of her neck wasn’t the ideal place to catch one, especially not when it led her to crack her skull against a boulder. That explained the blood, of course, but her thoughts remained sluggish. Her hands remained slow to respond.

SAM was quiet in the back of her head.

That was the hardest part of all. She’d come to rely on that voice rattling around in her gray matter. Like this, she was hamstrung, half of the woman she’d become with their SAM’s help. Doctor T’Perro was may have been certain everything would be fine, but they were so very far from the facilities on the Nexus and, though her work was stellar, impeccable, this was still a mobile medical facility. It couldn’t handle every injury that came its way.

What if she’d really messed up this time?

Drawing in a shaky breath, she tapped her thumb against the pad of each tacky fingertip. Still too slow to respond. Doctor T’Perro had explained it to her, all very prim and concise; it should have assuaged her, but she couldn’t remember more than the basic concept: _you fried your brain out there, Sara Ryder, and now SAM’s got to reboot. You’re on your own for now, but you’re free to go back to your quarters and rest if you’d like._

Sara wanted to. She wanted to want to anyway. But she lingered instead.

“Oh,” and that was Doctor T’Perro’s voice, close enough to catch Sara by surprise. It was only after a delay that Sara heard the door slide shut behind her. “You’re still here.” She must have gone; Sara hadn’t noticed. There was a strange note in her voice that Sara had never heard before. “I had assumed you would liberated yourself as soon as I let you out of my sight. I’m sorry I left you alone.”

Slowly, slowly, a flash of pain striking lightning quick down her spine, she turned and looked at the doctor. There was concern in her eyes, when Sara could catch them, but they wouldn’t settle on her face at all, flitting instead about and around Sara’s body. It was like she couldn’t quite decide where to look. And then, suddenly, she did. When her gaze reached Sara’s palms. And then she was stepping forward in a flurry of action, pronouncing a bunch of words that Sara didn’t want to hear. Sara’s head split in two at the noise and motion, making it easier to just ignore what T’Perro was saying and doing.

T’Perro’s hands had no trouble moving though. They worked quickly to find towels, water, wet wipes.

“Are you in pain?” she asked, her words an awl that struck between Sara’s eyes. It was always hard for Sara to hear the concern in her voice. It made her wish that things could be different between them, more than what they already were, though Sara felt greedy and guilty for even thinking it. They’d already gone over this after all, T’Perro’s stance perfectly clear. “Has the tab I gave you worn off?”

“No,” Sara said after a moment. Though pain did lance through her when she twisted wrong, even she could tell it was dulled. “As long as I don’t move, it’s fine.” She frowned. That made it sound so dramatic. “The tab is working is what I mean. I’m fine. It’s okay, Doc. I just thought I’d sit here for a while. To get my bearings.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Doctor T’Perro asked, arms still full of supplies. As though she was only just realizing it, she dropped them all on the bed, the boxes landing haphazard at Sara’s side. Her hand brushed the outside of Sara’s thigh, making her feel something other than pain as a thin tendril of desire curled in her gut. It was nothing out of the ordinary for Sara, of course; she was so very used to wanting Doctor T’Perro’s touch on her body that it hardly registered anymore. And given how often Sara was injured…

Sara used to count how often T’Perro’s fingers skimmed across her body, but as the months wore on, Sara realized it was a fool’s errand to even try.

It had to number in the hundreds by now anyway, both casual and professional touches, intentional and accidental.

T’Perro stilled, her focus honing in on Sara’s hands again, like there was something particularly troubling about seeing Sara’s blood on her own palms. Honestly, it wasn’t that out of the ordinary or unexpected. It happened all the time. And T’Perro had already sealed up the wound on her head. She wasn’t even bleeding anymore. This was just Sara needing to get cleaned up and instead just sitting here doing nothing.

“Sara?”

Sara’s eyes closed and she drew in a deep breath. It wasn’t fair that T’Perro could do this to her, could so casually care about Sara when Sara couldn’t even do the reverse, not even as friends because where was the line and what if Sara crossed it again? It would have been nice if they could be friends. ”I’m okay.”

She couldn’t exactly admit what the problem really was. T’Perro wouldn’t be thanking her for the knowledge anyway.

“Your hands are shaking.” As though to illustrate, T’Perro cupped them in her palms, skimmed her gloved fingertips down the center of them. “Let’s get you cleaned up, hmm? I’m sure you’ll feel better once the blood is gone. That can’t be nice for you.”

No, what wasn’t nice was T’Perro forcing her to deny herself this way when all she wanted was to touch her in return. Jerking her hands out of T’Perro’s grasp, she hopped down from the bed and regretted it immediately, not just for the wave of nausea that overcame her, but the sheer loneliness that resulted from her knowing that SAM should have been berating her right now and wasn’t able to, that she would be returning to her quarters and wouldn’t even have SAM there with her. They were as impaired as Sara right now and Sara desperately missed them. “I’ll take care of it, Doctor. Thank you.”

Words were so difficult to get out that Sara worried they were muddled in her mouth, unintelligible. But now T’Perro’s hands were braced on her abdomen and lower back, warm and comforting, and that just wasn’t fair either, not when Sara could barely get her bearings. None of this was fair.

She should’ve gone back to her quarters while she had the chance. It wasn’t like they were so very far away. She could’ve made it if she hadn’t chosen to be so dramatic about it.

And now T’Perro was looking at her with a confused combination of concern and unhappiness and something else Sara couldn’t quite figure out and wasn’t sure she even wanted to.

“Please, Sara. You shouldn’t move so quickly,” she said, soothing and a little cajoling, trying for lighthearted and missing it entirely. Her hand continued to hover over the supplies. “Let me do this.”

Anger twisted inside of her, anger and envy. So much envy. It opened a chasm in her chest, cracked her sternum in two with the power of it. She would have tightened her hands into fists if she could, punched at the nearest surface that wasn’t T’Perro’s pretty, perfect face.

She sighed and sagged forward, her anger and envy draining away. It was too exhausting to keep it up. Everything was a fight in this galaxy. Maybe this one thing didn’t have to be. Shrugging, she said, “Fine. Do your worst.”

T’Perro released a sigh of her own, guiding Sara back to the bed before grabbing the bowl of water and a soft piece of fabric. “Hold your hands out,” she said, “over the water.” She then placed the bowl in Sara’s lap and adjusted it until she was certain it wouldn’t fall over. Carefully, she dipped the fabric into the water and swiped it over Sara’s palms. The water dripped, blood-tinged, into the bowl. _Plunk plunk plunk._ It would have been soothing if not for Lex—T’Perro’s, _T’Perro’s_ physical proximity to her.

Arousal warmed her from the inside out again, embarrassing and distracting, and she couldn’t even shift toward or away from T’Perro because of the water. She felt pinned in place, not helpless, but as close to it as she could get. She knew now what real helplessness felt like and the two sensations were very different; T’Perro didn’t make her feel unsafe, though perhaps a little hopeless.

God, but she wished she could just move, squirm, anything.

Of course, T’Perro didn’t notice. At least Sara hoped she didn’t. She was certainly acting as though she was ignorant of what she was doing to Sara. In fact, she was so intent on her task that Sara might as well not have been there at all. A swipe. Then the careful dip of fabric into the water. Another swipe. The light, tinkling plink of water droplets, a rush as T’Perro wrung the fabric out. Another swipe.

It was enough to drive anyone mad. Gritting her teeth, she breathed through her nose and closed her eyes and hoped T’Perro would lose interest in the project.

“You’re looking a little pale,” T’Perro said after a moment and Sara wasn’t entirely sure how she could tell, because she wouldn’t look Sara in the eyes as she said it and certainly hadn’t gone through much trouble to look at her while she washed her hands for her. “You’re not lightheaded, are you? Weak? Feeling faint?”

Pale wasn’t the slightest bit how she felt, not when she was so warm. It seemed to her that her cheeks had to be red, giving her away entirely. But perhaps not. “I’m okay. I’m not gonna faint on you, Doc.”

“Okay.” She grabbed a fresh piece of cloth and dried Sara’s hands and put aside the bowl and both lengths of fabric. Sara almost breathed a sigh of relief when T’Perro picked up one of the packets of wipes and ripped it open. What could she possibly want to do now? But then she made it perfectly clear when she actually took hold of Sara’s hands and swiped again the broad expanse of her palms.

As far as Sara could see, there was no reason for this. She didn’t have any open wounds there. T’Perro had no reason to disinfect her skin so thoroughly. It was infuriating. Beyond infuriating, really, because now Sara felt trapped and foolish and she wanted so much that she couldn’t think straight and—

“Are you almost done?” she snapped, not anywhere near as friendly as she normally was. She probably could have been ruder and more abrupt if she really wanted to try, but it was a close one.

T’Perro’s eyes widened, but more importantly, she actually looked at Sara and Sara, for once, could actually identify the emotion she was seeing: guilt. “Yes, of course,” she said too quickly, too strained. It was something new that Sara had never seen out of her before. It probably meant nothing, but Sara… Sara wanted it to mean something. Her lower lip caught between her teeth and she bit down, not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough that she felt it, hard enough that it was a distraction from what she was seeing and hoping for.

The sensation stopped her from saying something else supremely stupid.

Because there was no way. No way. But the same impulse that made Sara believe they could actually accomplish something in this galaxy made her believe that Lexi was doing this for a purpose that had nothing at all to do with being the best doctor in the Andromeda galaxy.

Finally able to move a little more confidently, she shifted her legs, brushed Lexi’s body with her knee, jostled those hands that still held Sara’s so delicately.

Lexi’s eyes dropped; she seemed surprised to see their hands still tangled together. “Sara, I…” Now she was the one biting her lip and wasn’t it so charming to see her off-balance for once? She retained her poise, of course—Sara didn’t think she could be anything less than poised—but it was clear that she was uncertain. It made Sara feel a little less alone in all this. “I’ve done you a disservice, I think.”

Sara’s stomach dropped and all the warmth she was feeling immediately changed to a frigid, frozen chill as ice formed in her stomach. She might have felt faint then, but she didn’t acknowledge it. It was the kind of faint a doctor couldn’t really do anything about anyway.

Getting her hands beneath her, she shoved herself off the bed, heedless of the consequences, nearly upending the bowl of blood-tinged water in her haste. Lexi reached for it, confused, and then reached for Sara, hand wrapping around Sara’s wrist before she could get very far.

Though her balance was better now, she still felt so slow.

“Sara, where are you going?”

“Back to my quarters.” She offered T’Perro a smile and hoped it looked friendlier than it felt. “I’m feeling much better, thank you.” _I won’t make you do me a disservice again, I promise._

That she then swayed and had to steady herself against the bed was just her luck and less to do with her injury than her own stubbornness. And of course Lexi’s hands came up to brace her, like she had a sixth doctorly sense that made her aware of everything that was happening to Sara physically. “Sara…”

There was a hesitance in her voice that Sara couldn’t allow herself to believe in. Just like she couldn’t believe in the feeling of Lexi’s hands on her, warm and pleasant and so, so welcome.

“I’m not ignorant of our—your—of the complexity of the relationship between us. It’s not as easy as…” Her voice sounded lost, caught in the haze of her discomfort and unease. “I can’t have feelings for you, Sara. It’s not appropriate. As your physician…”

It was true. Sara couldn’t deny that and she couldn’t argue except… she’d said our relationship. And had tried to correct herself and put it all back on Sara. It was so much more defensive than Sara had ever seen her. It gave Sara more courage than anything else Lexi had said to her before. “Do you though?” She wasn’t sure what she’d do with the answer even once she got it, but she needed to know. Desperately. One way or the other. Right now. This had finally gone on too long. “Have feelings for me?”

Lexi looked away as Sara’s heart climb her throat and threaten to choke her while Lexi delayed answering.

“It’s not that simple, Sara,” was what Lexi managed finally, so much less than Sara wanted, but more of an acknowledgment than Sara might ever have expected.

“Nothing is simple out here,” Sara said, not trying to defend it, but only speaking the truth. “There’s not a single thing in Andromeda that’s been easy. I just—” She shrugged and slipped out from beneath Lexi’s touch. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

Lexi’s mouth twisted unhappily and her eyes searched Sara’s face, darting back and forth as though that would allow her to more quickly ascertain the answer. “What do you mean?” But now it was Sara who couldn’t speak right away and, unlike Sara, she didn’t hesitate to grab Sara by the shoulder and shake her slightly. It wasn’t enough to hurt her, not physically anyway. “Sara, what are you talking about?”

The truth was Sara didn’t know. She couldn’t exactly fire Lexi and she couldn’t resign as the Pathfinder. All she could do was move on. She’d lose a friend, but at least… at least she might not hate her by the end of it. Sara shrugged out from beneath this touch, too, but this time, Lexi got the hint. She didn’t reach out again. “I can’t care about you and be around you and not—” Sara sighed, disgusted, and shook her head. Not the best idea she’d ever had, but she supposed she’d had worse in her time. “I need space, okay? I’m not at my best right now and you…”

The words, now that they were finally coming, rang hollow in Sara’s ears, couldn’t fully contain everything that she felt about Lexi, the torment she put herself through for feelings that couldn’t be reciprocated.

“You can’t feel anything for me,” Sara finished.

Sara took a slow, exploratory step toward the door, her confidence growing when she didn’t swoon again. But Lexi did nothing and when Sara took another step and then another, Sara thought she was safe, that Lexi would finally let her be and…

She got as far as the door, close enough that it slid open for her, before she was grabbed and pulled back inside, the door closing again, which was a good thing because she didn’t want anyone else to hear the broken noise Lexi made—hell, Sara wasn’t even sure she wanted to hear it, it wasn’t something she recognized and it hurt to listen to, knowing Sara had caused it—and she certainly didn’t want anyone else to see the way Lexi cradled her head and then kissed her.

She’d wanted this for so long, the slide of Lexi’s tongue against and between her lips, the earnest clutch of her hands against the back of Sara’s neck… it was too good, sent such a wave of need through her, throbbing and undeniable as the tide, that Sara couldn’t stop even though she probably should have.

It was a weakness maybe.

But it was a weakness Sara didn’t know how to overcome. She wanted so deeply, so terribly, just this thing from Lexi that she couldn’t stop herself from basking in it now that Lexi was giving it to her.

She wouldn’t deny herself. They _would_ figure it out. Sara promised herself that. And more importantly, she made the promise to Lexi, too.

It was a big thing they were undertaking here in Andromeda. Sara didn’t mind adding another seemingly impossible thing to the list.

It only made it better when she succeeded.

“I have loved you,” Lexi said, hesitant as she pulled away, but no less truthful for that hesitance. “I hate seeing you hurt.”

“I’ll be more careful,” Sara answered, the only assurance she could give. She’d do everything she could for Lexi. Within reason anyway. “You’ve done a pretty good job handling me so far and I trust you. Can you trust me in turn?”

She hoped Lexi understood what Sara meant, how seriously she took this.

And with the soft way she smiled at Sara, relieved, Sara thought maybe she did.

“Okay,” Lexi said, but it sounded a lot more like _yes_ to Sara.

It was the only answer she could have wanted for the one question she’d never thought to ask before.


End file.
